at last, on the 2nd of January, were lucky enough to bid the town
adieu; but did not proceed far, for in the first bay the wind fell,
and did not spring up again till after midnight. It was now Sunday,
and no true Englishman will set sail on a Sunday; we remained,
therefore, lying at anchor the whole of the 3rd of January, looking
with very melancholy feelings after two ships, whose captains, in
spite of the holiness of the day, had profited by the fresh breeze,
and sailed gaily past us.

On the same evening we saw a vessel, which our captain affirmed was
a slaver, run into the bay. It kept as far as possible from the
fort, and cast anchor at the most outward extremity of the bay. As
the night was clear and moonlight we walked late upon deck, when,
true enough, we saw little boats laden with negroes pulling in
shore. An officer, indeed, came from the fort to inquire into the
doings of this suspicious craft; but the owner seemed to afford him
a satisfactory account, for he left the ship, and the slaves
continued during the whole night to be quietly and undisturbedly
smuggled in as before.

On the morning of the 4th of January, as we sailed past the vessel,
we beheld a great number of the poor creatures still standing upon
the deck. Our captain inquired of the slave-dealer how many slaves
he had had on board, and we learned with astonishment that the
number amounted to 670. Much has already been said and written upon
this horrible trade; it is everywhere execrated, and looked upon as
a blot on the human race, and yet it still continues to flourish.

This day promised to turn out a very melancholy one in many
respects. We had hardly lost sight of the slaver before one of our
own crew had nearly committed suicide. The steward, a young
mulatto, had contracted the bad habit of indulging too much in
liquor. The captain had often threatened to punish him severely,
but all to no purpose; and this morning he was so intoxicated that
the sailors were obliged to lay him in a corner of the forecastle,
where he might sleep himself sober. Suddenly, however, he leapt up,
clambered on to the forepart of the ship, and threw himself into the
sea. Luckily, it was almost a calm, the water was quite still, and
we had hopes of saving him. He soon reappeared at the side of the
vessel, and ropes were thrown him from every side. The love of life
was awakened in his breast, and caused him to grasp involuntarily at
the ropes, but